


30 Days

by sky_kaijou



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Blowjobs, Each chapter starts with a rating and warning, Fluff, Friendship, Hairpin Triggers, Handsome Boys, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Obsessions, Secret Relationship, Sex, Their friends knew before they did, Violetshipping, joukai, kaijou, puppyshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2018-10-17 01:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 17,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10583835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_kaijou/pseuds/sky_kaijou
Summary: A collection of themed fics. Each chapter has a theme and a rating. From fluff to sex, and everything in between! I hope you'll find something to your taste here.





	1. Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> We'll see where this goes! A 30 Day OTP Challenge.
> 
>  
> 
> [Based on this 30 Day Prompt](https://sky-kaijou-writes.tumblr.com/post/159371557441/ericandys-30-day-otp-challenge)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day One: Holding Hands  
> Rated T

They’d never had the conversation.

He was afraid if he voiced those overdue words, that would have to be the end. It did only start off as an enemies-with-benefits deal, after all. A heated kiss after an argument; a journey to a bed; two men unravelling in an unexplainable way.

After that night, they’d tried to fight the indescribable attraction. They’d managed to stave it off for a month, until the same fight, like clockwork, landed them in the same position, on the same bed, with the same name rolling off their tongues as lips travelled down their bodies.

Mutually, they’d agreed to let it be as it was, and began meeting up regularly; with the sole intention of pleasure and fun. But it slowly crept into something more; kisses, spending the night, waking up with a smile on his face.

Learning how he liked his coffee through tasting it on his tongue before he left for the day.

Every Friday night, turned into a Sunday morning.

There was no way this was one sided, right?

But they’d never had _the_ conversation. Feelings weren’t meant to be involved.

_Accidents happen._

He was sure all his friends knew; although in public they tried to acted the same, there’d been more than once where they’d slipped up - caught themselves turning to kiss the others’ cheek; even smiling into each other’s eyes a few times. But nobody acted like they explicitly knew anything.

He felt like he was about to break; he just wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

_I’m in love._

The battle raged on in front of them, life points were dropping quickly, and for a moment, his heart beat quicker as he shouted words of encouragement at the boy who had but saved their lives many, many times.

He felt the warm grasp of those long fingers wrap into his, and a soft voice echo around his ears.

“You know we’re going to be alright.” The free hand brushed the hair out of the stunning amber eyes. “He hasn’t lost before.”

He squeezed the hand, expecting him to let go, but he remained there. Their eyes locked, and a smile followed.

The group of friends merely noted the action, and one of them merely muttered “finally.”

Maybe they were going to be alright. Maybe they didn’t need to have the conversation.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two: Cuddling Somewhere  
> Rated K

To say that I don’t like human interaction is an immense understatement. You’d probably assume that I would, considering my status as the head of a multi-billion-dollar corporation, but to be able to succeed in a corporate world, it is prudent that you have a certain amount of self-hate, drive, and a thick layer of ice.

Everybody’s out to get you. Almost everybody wants to date you for your money.

Then there was this idiot, who smells like he rolled around in a candy shop, who wouldn’t care less about the contents of my wallet. He’s everything I’m not; loud, impulsive; intrinsically trustworthy. He always paints a smile on his face, leaves a trail of bad jokes, and that crinkle of his nose…

That’s how he got my attention.

“The only straight I am is straight up gangster!” He’d practically yelled, while whacking his friend in the temple, and grinning unabashedly. It didn’t make sense at the time, I wondered if he’d made a faux par in his choice of words. Who would want to be out and proud in a world so cruel? But he lived true to his heart, taking the time to educate people along the way.

To live unapologetically, I could learn a few things.

Valentine’s day came, a mountain of gifts from anonymous girls piled up on my desk, and in my locker, but he came up to me with a grin on his face and said “this ain’t no joke, I like ya. There’s somethin’ about the way we fight that makes me keep comin’ back for more.” He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, dropped the present on my desk, and left before I had time to react with more than just a blush.

The breaking point came, when we were finished a duel; I’d naturally won, and proceeded to leave without saying a word. As the nerd herd left the area, he’d said “hey, I’ll be wit’ ya real quick,” and dashed off in my direction.

“Great Duel,” he said as he caught up to me.

“What do you want?” I asked, coldly.

“You.” Within a three second span, he’d stopped me, grabbed my face with both hands, and planted a kiss on my lips. “You taste like coffee.” He laughed, and dashed off again, without giving me a chance to react.

But my god, I did react. It’s like something in my core was alive. I couldn’t help but think of him, whenever my mind drifted into sleep I saw a flash of that grin, those golden eyes.

I wanted to have him. I needed to have him.

He makes messes in my living room; he always leaves his soda on the coffee table, and never uses a coaster. He rolls out of bed in the morning, brushes his teeth and leaves for school without a comb through his hair or a care in the world. Sometimes he barges into my office wearing my trenchcoats and makes fun of me, and I shoo him away but he doesn’t listen. He pushes my laptop out of my reach and places himself there instead. How could I deny working on this project instead when it’s a lot more attractive than spreadsheets and budget reports?

Tonight, he’s fallen asleep against me while watching TV, his head resting lightly against my chest as I’m trying to answer emails. I set my computer aside, and take a moment to appreciate him; his hair smells like bubblegum, and is soft to touch. I rest my head on his, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and let myself absorb his aura; peaceful, warm, enchanting. He shifts softly and murmurs “I love ya” as he’s dreaming.

I don’t know what I did right to deserve him.


	3. Watching A Movie Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Three - Watching A Movie Together/Gaming Together

“I hope you like popcorn.” Jou smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head from nervousness.

“Why?”

“Um…” He laughed apprehensively. “Well, I made a lot.”

“A lot?” Kaiba’s eyes narrowed. "How much is 'a lot?'"

“Well, ya know how popcorn like, explodes? Well, I sorta didn’t think about it when I poured in the kernels.”

Seto got out of the couch, pushing Jou out of the doorway to the kitchen.

Holy mother of Ra.

Strewn from the oven top to the kitchen bench was more popcorn than Kaiba had initially anticipated; there wasn’t enough for the two of them, more like two full movie theatres.

“What were you doing?” hissed Kaiba.

“I said I didn’ think about it when I poured ‘em in!”

Seto facepalmed. “Once you’ve cleaned this up, I’ll be in the lounge waiting.”

“What are we going to watch?”

“You said you wanted to watch a movie, so I chose a comedy. Although now, since you’ve made such a mess, I’m tempted to change my mind to a horror.”

“Eep!”


	4. On A Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Four: On A Date

“We should go on a date.” Katsuya announced, sitting on the Mahogany desk on the 26th floor of the Kaiba Corp tower.

“Is that why you booked a time to see me?” Seto questioned, sighing, eyeing the pile of financial reports and tech plans stacked neatly in the corner.

“Well, I hardly see you at home since you work so damn late,” Katsuya huffed twirling his finger in his messy blond hair.

“Fine. I’ll pencil it in for Friday at six.” There was no point arguing, Katsuya had been asking for a real date for weeks. He wasn’t usually relentless, at least, he tried to understand Seto’s work schedule. But Seto had been out of the country all last week on business, and Katsuya had missed him like crazy.

“You’re a romantic, aren’t ya?” Katsuya complained rhetorically, rolling his eyes. “Pencilling me in like a goddamn inconvenience.”

“I didn’t call you an inconvenience; not all of us can come and go as we please. You chose to be in a relationship with me knowing my task list never ends.”

“Touché,” Katsuya mumbled. “Can you choose where we go?”

“Isn’t it meant to be whoever asks already has a plan?” Seto raised an eyebrow at the needy man.

“But you’re much more well-travelled that I.” He clutched his chest like he was in a dramatic love scene.

Seto sighed. “Fine. I’ll think of an activity. Just wear something nice when I come to pick you up.”

Katsuya smiled. “Thank you, love ya!” He bounced out of the room before Seto could kick him out of his office in preparation for his four o’clock meeting.

-

Katsuya tried and tried to get the details of the date out of Seto, but if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s being tight-lipped. “Just be there, dress well, but not formal. The rest is already sorted.”

Katsuya slipped into the limo at Isono’s invitation; finding the tall CEO already seated in the backseat. Dressed in his signature leather and a simple black shirt that did more than just show off his abs.

Dinner won’t be as yummy as _this_.

“Hey,” Katsuya greeted, with a beaming smile.

“Hey,” Seto purred, grabbing Katsuya’s collar, dragging him onto his side of the seat.

“What’s the plans f’ tonight?”

Seto stared into his eyes, piercing them with delicious intent. “First, we’ll do dinner. I know what you’re like on an empty stomach. Then I have a surprise at 8pm, so we’ll need to leave dinner at 7:30pm to get there.”

“A surprise?”

Seto tapped his finger on Katsuya’s temple. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“I’m excited.”

“You should be. I don’t do things in half measures.”

“I know,” Katsuya said, wrapping his legs around the hips of the other, straddling him, leaning in for a kiss.

“If you start this in the limo, we won’t be able to make our dinner.”

Katsuya batted his eyelashes. “I’m merely just kissin’ ya, it wasn’t with any other intent.”

“As if.” The limo pulled up to a stop, outside the restaurant, on the edge of the famous Domino City food district.

“A steak house?” Katsuya asked.

“I know it’s one of your favourite foods. Come on, let’s go inside.”

Katsuya swooned, as he followed Seto out of the car and into the establishment, where the food kept coming, and Seto merely nursed a glass of champagne as he listened to the tall stories his lover spun.

-

“Right,” Seto announced, as he looked at his watch. “We’d better head to our next location.”

“What d’ya have planned for us?” Katsuya probed.

“It’ll be obvious once we get there.” Seto slid into the backseat of the waiting limo, grabbing the hand of his boyfriend pulling him in.

“I don’t know what could top that delicious dinner…” Katsuya commented, with a full stomach.

“Don’t give up on me too easily,” Seto mused. “I didn’t just want to take you out to eat, I could do that any time.”

“I’m impressed you put this much plannin’ into it!”

Seto merely smirked, as he glanced out the window, the surprise beginning to come into view.

 “Are you…serious?” Katsuya asked, as he saw the colourful balloons in the sky.

“Quite.”

“Ya takin’ me on a balloon ride?”

“Always knew you were an observant one,” Seto rolled his eyes.

“Shaddup.”

“We’re going to watch the sunset.”

“That’s romantic of ya.”

“More ‘romantic’ than you imagined when I pencilled you in,” Seto remarked, and Katsuya laughed at the attempt at a joke. Seto grabbed his boyfriends’ hand, dragging him out of the limo and up to the pilot in charge of the balloon they’d be riding in.

After the safety briefing, guided by the tour guide, they hopped in the basket, rising above Domino City’s lights, and watched the sun set into the sea, shimmering on the water.

“This view is breath-taking,” Joey murmured, as he watched the orange glow of the sky contrast with the deep blue of the ocean.

“Isn’t it just?” Seto reached out and took the hand of the other, watching the face of his astounded lover silently take everything in. Moments where the other was left speechless were fleeting, but when he was, there was nothing more captivating. “I would do everything to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy,” he swooned.

They stayed in the air until the night sky was truly setting in, stars beginning to sprinkle the sky, sparkling like his love-filled eyes.

“This date was incredible, I should bug ya more often.”

“Do you know what would make it better?” Seto purred into the ear of the delighted man.

Katsuya shivered with delight. “Why dontcha show me?”

“Gladly.” Seto ran his fingertips lightly through the blond mane, as he took charge of the straddle, diving in for kisses. “We’ve got about, fifteen minutes until we get home, which is just enough time to get you hot before I sweep you off your feet and show you how to end this date…exquisitely.”

“Was this all just a ploy to get into my pants?” Katsuya joked. “You know what they say; wine me, dine, sixty-nine.”

Seto snickered. “As if I don’t already have twenty-four-seven access.”

“You would if you were home more often.”

“It just means I have to take advantage of it when I am.”


	5. Kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Five - Kissing

It had already rattled Seto Kaiba to the core, watching the idiot sink to the bottom of the harbour with the chain wrapped around his ankle. The possibility of that being _the_ end for the blond third-rate made his chest feel unusually tight. If Shizuka hadn’t been so quick to act, he would have, reluctantly.

Not that he wanted the honour or thanks from the group, that was what deterred him from ‘playing hero’ himself. He just merely needed his chew toy.

But the second time; after Marik’s shadow game, where Jounouchi fell to the ground, and Mokuba announced with shaky words that he wasn’t breathing… it felt like his world was falling apart, and he couldn’t pinpoint why. When the on-board doctors resuscitated him, he left without a word, letting the friends ceremoniously watch over him, waiting for his waking moment.

On the rare occasions, when they weren’t huddled around his bed harping on about the heart of the cards, and hoping and praying for him to wake up, Seto was, with a blank look on his face, staring at his face, hoping to see a sign of improvement.

He’d never admit it to anyone.

They already blamed him for refusing to land; but a normal hospital wouldn’t have been able to save him, nor could they have landed in time in the first place. With all the money in the world, came a fleet of the best doctors, medicines, facilities. But they wouldn’t have understood that. With Kaiba’s attitude about everything magic and shadow games, they wouldn’t have believed he would be prepared for the worst, ten thousand feet in the sky.

Once Jounouchi had come to, they had their bronze duel, and the pair flung insults as was natural. Jou’s spirits weren’t crushed even though he’d been attached to IV drips and heart rate monitors not days prior, and he gave it his all, with his signature smile and headstrong attitude. “I never give up!” he shouted to the defeat, although it was almost metaphoric.

Maybe he was just too stupid to die? Maybe he looked Darwin in the eyes and flipped him the bird.

It all came to a head after Kaiba took his victory, though the taste of third-place was bitter and unforgiving. In a normal life, Kaiba would have been merely annoyed at not taking first for himself, but now, there was something in his gut that couldn’t be satiated that had nothing to do with first place. The catalyst was Jounouchi, and his stomach knotted in peculiar ways.

As it was doing then, in the corridor they were passing through, alone.

“I trust that you’ve stopped tempting fate.” The comment was meant to be merely an observation, but Kaiba felt it waiver in his throat as it left, and he cursed himself for not holding it together with more poise.

Jou glanced up. “What’s dat suppos’ta mean?”

“It just seems that every time I turn around, you’re staring death in the face.”

“It’s not on purpose, yanno,” Katsuya said, stepping into Kaiba’s personal space as if to tempt him.

“I’m just saying, if I have to foot the bill for your idiocy again, I’ll be making you pay.” Kaiba pushed his shoulder to move him out of the way, but a hand grabbed his wrist.

“I don’t care how much I hav’ to pay back if it means I don’t owe ya anything.”

Kaiba reacted to the touch by pinning him to the wall of the corridor. “It’s nothing you could afford to give me…Just stop trying to fucking die at every chance.”

Jou’s heart beat quickly, feeling the tall form of the other pressing against his. Despite his thin form, he was strong, and Jou couldn’t wiggle away from the grip.

“Why d’ya care so much about me?”

“Why do you think?” The sapphire eyes stared deep into the soul of the amber. And Jou finally understood.

Most people’s first kisses are sweet and nervous, but this was like fireworks exploding in the night sky. The heat of the other enveloped, as did the friction of chapped lips and rough unshaven cheeks as they collided against the iron wall.

Hands were in each other’s hair, faces tilted, the kiss was wrapped in the usual clichés about his lips tasting like coffee, and his like candy. For what seemed like hours, they battled between the need to rob each other of oxygen. The gasps and moans of two teenagers who had finally accepted their fate of being putty in the others’ hands ringing through the otherwise silent hallway.

It was only a buzzing in Kaiba’s pocket that brought the pair back to Earth, where he pulled back, and saw the incoming call from Mokuba.

“I have to take this,” he mumbled, as he picked up the call, leaving the dishevelled form of the blond leaning up against the wall, taking deep breaths with a rose-coloured blush on his cheeks and a more-than-obvious physical reaction to the kiss.

But there wasn’t an apology, and Kaiba left it open to interpretation.

It’s a good thing Jou used his damn brain and ended up at his mansion, looking for an answer.

He gave it to him.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Six - Wearing Each Other's Clothes  
> Rated M

Seto hadn’t seen Katsuya all day, which was almost a relief, considering how much work he had to catch up on. It was Sunday, but that didn’t stop the emails and business proposals from piling up, and Seto was glad to take a day out of his stuffy office to catch up.

He swung the door to his home office open, and was surprised to see the form sitting in his chair, on his computer, leaning forward to read something on his screen. He merely looked up at the mouth agape man, standing in the doorway.

“Why are you wearing my clothes?”

Katsuya was in the leather chair, wearing Seto’s trenchcoat, leather jeans, and a button up shirt, with his signature long leather boots and belts strapped to his limbs. It was uncanny that he’d bothered, let alone managed to fit into the lithe man’s wardrobe.

It was also such a sight to see; from jeans and tees to “get shit done” business casual. Seto took a moment to take it in, a mixture of weirdly intrigued and disturbed.

“I’m trying to get in your mind; you’re a difficult one to figure out.” He tapped the pen on the desk. “My balls are jammed so awkwardly in here; I understand why you go commando. And I think I understand why you’re always so damn pissed off all the time.”

Noting the lack of response, he continued. “I also thought it might be nice to roleplay occasionally. Might be nice to get you underneath the desk, distracting me from _my_ emails. Maybe you can see it from my point of view?”

“What emails?” Seto rolled his eyes. “Surely they’re not important enough to do on a Sunday.”

“My life isn’t as simple as you assume,” Katsuya mocked, the words sounding like they were echoed from similar sentiments. “You employ me; I also have meetings, teams, and fans to answer to.”

A strange feeling swept over Seto, as he watched the nonchalant form rock back into his chair, resting the heels of the boots on the wooden desk. “Now are you just going to stand there and watch me, or are you here for a reason?”

“I…” Seto took a moment to process, realising he was meant to be demure. “I just thought, you work so hard, and it’s Sunday, and you deserve a break.”

Katsuya glanced over at the piercing blue eyes, only meeting the glance by raising one eyebrow. “I have a company to run…” he pushed forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and his chin in interlinked hands. “Now, do you have a reason to be here, or are you wasting my time again?”

Seto stepped into the office, lightly clicking the door behind him, turning the lock. “Fifteen minutes, that’s all I ask?”

Katsuya glanced at the clock on the glowing computer screen. “I guess I can fit you in now.”

For a moment, Seto felt awkward, he realised this must be how Katsuya feels every time he intrudes, before anything hot and heavy starts to happen, anyway.

Which must be what he’s expecting. Fine, he’ll give it to him.

Seto gently pushed the computer away from Katsuya’s reach, placing himself there instead. Katsuya leaned back in his chair, taking his heels off the desk. “Business reports aren’t sexy, but you are.” He crossed his jeans-laden legs and leaned forward to capture Katsuya’s lips, who pretended to be unphased.

“Come on, show me how desperate for my time you are,” Katsuya mumbled, although Seto could tell he was fighting back a smirk.

“Alright.” Seto grabbed the collar of the blue button down, pulling Katsuya forward, running his tongue along the bottom lip. He thread one hand through the messy blond locks, and the other rested on the padded coat shoulder, balancing himself. Katsuya gave in, and Seto took over his mouth, breathing heavily.

Katsuya couldn’t hide it anymore, and the tight leather pants left nothing to the imagination. Knowing Seto had taken the bait was erotic, and his stomach stirred at the notion that Seto would follow through with a killer blowjob.

Seto pulled back, locking eyes, and made his place on the floor. With no hesitation, he freed the hardness, swiftly taking it deep into his throat. Fighting to stay composed, Katsuya lost momentarily, melting into the chair, letting the moan ripple through the room, as Seto’s tongue danced around the tip.

Katsuya gripped the chair, trying to control himself as Seto worked, maintaining eye contact. The flutter of the eyelashes, the way his cheeks sucked in, was more erotic than the feeling in his stomach, as his cock pulsed in waves, building up to the sweet release. Seto’s tongue worked around the whole length, massaging at the base, and a free hand cupped the balls loosely, rolling them around in his palm.

A tongue over the tip sent Katsuya suddenly over the edge, washing the inside of Seto’s mouth with his love. Seto religiously sucked until the last wave, and the length became soft in his mouth. He got up, and Katsuya noticed he was turned on.

“Oh, you’re hard too?” Katsuya mused, tapping his fingernails on the arms of the chair he’d melted into. “I’d reciprocate, but you only asked for fifteen minutes...”

Seto looked a little taken aback, cheeks flush. He cleared his throat, but Katsuya responded before he could.

“I’m just fuckin’ with ya. I’ve had my fun; it’s Sunday and I’m all yours. Let’s take this to the bedroom.”


	7. Cosplaying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Seven - Cosplaying  
> Rated K

“Kaiba, do you see those guys over there?”

Seto looked up from his phone, to where Katsuya’s finger was waggling. In the crowd were a group of kids dressed up as their favourite Duel Monsters.

“Cosplayers? To be expected.”

“No, take another look.”

Two of the cosplayers were dressed up as Jounouchi and Kaiba themselves, down to the obnoxious trench coat, leather pants. The jeans and signature Battle City tee.

“That’s ridiculous.” Kaiba waved Jou’s hand away.

“We should go and say hi.”

“No.”

Jou grabbed Kaiba’s hand, without permission dragging him to the group of teens.

“Hi!” Katsuya’s voice rang through the crowd. The teens looked up.

“Oh! Hi!” The Jou Cosplayer blushed fervently. Katsuya looked down, noticing the Jou and Kaiba were holding hands. Seto’s eyes averted from the group after merely nodding his acknowledgement.

“I like your cosplays!” Jou said. “What made ya choose to be me though? I’m not even famous!”

“Jounouchi-San! You’re my favourite duellist!” the Kaiba Cosplayer said boldly. “I’m all about an underdog with a gamble deck!”

“Aw,” Katsuya blushed. “That’s real cool of ya.”

The Jou Cosplayer squeezed the hand of the Kaiba Cosplayer, and looked at the two expectantly. “Since you’re here, do you mind giving us an autograph?”

“Sure!” Katsuya answered eagerly. Kaiba just eyeballed the pair. “I think dat’s a yes from him.”

“I can answer for myself.”

Katsuya and the cosplayers giggled, as they held out newly bought Duel Monsters merch. Katsuya scrawled haphazardly over the Red-Eyes plushie, and Seto sighed before he signed the Blue-Eyes. As was to be expected.

“Thank you guys so much! You’re so cool in person!”

“No problem!” Katsuya giggled a little, and bowed, parting ways from the group. “Jeez, Seto, you could be a lil’ nicer.”

“Tch.”

 


	8. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Eight - Shopping  
> Rated T (Language)

“You need new clothes.”

“No I don’t.” Katsuya leaned defiantly on the doorframe, as Seto brushed his teeth. “These are comfortable.” He was dressed in a maroon tee, and worn in blue jeans.

“You look like a trash can.”

“Gee, thanks!” Katsuya rolled his eyes, as Seto leaned in to fix his hair. “Not all of us are as vain as you.”

“Because I get photographed at every angle,” Seto retorted. “I hate giving paparazzi something to report on. They’re bottom feeding scum.”

Katsuya huffed.

“Look, if I’m going to be seen in public from now on with you, you also have to put in a little effort.”

“Fi-ine!” Katsuya backed down, knowing he was losing the battle.

-

“Hi, welcome!” The shopkeeper was bubbly and all smiles. “Are you two alright today?”

Katsuya blushed, noticing the price tags of the clothes instore. “Uhhh…”

“Would you mind helping me?” Seto replied, and Katsuya nearly fell over. “As you can see this man has no fashion sense, and I need him to look presentable.”

“Wow, rude,” Katsuya replied, and the shopkeeper just giggled.

“Certainly, do you have anything in mind?”

“Let’s see,” Seto mused. “I don’t mind if he gets a few jeans, and a few tees. Something nicer and better fitting than he’s wearing now. He needs a winter coat, some formal wear, maybe a vest. He needs a whole wardrobe, really.”

“Do you have a price range?”

Seto shook his head. “Just make him look respectable, and I’ll pay.” He looked at the frowning blonde. “Time for a runway, pretty boy,” he growled into his ear as the shopkeeper went to grab her measuring tape.

“Fuck you,” he growled back.

“Maybe later.” Seto smirked, knowing he’d rattled his idiot boyfriend.

-

“Okay, so I’ve found a few things to try!” The shopkeeper handed a few sets of different style jeans, tees, dress shirts, and things to Katsuya. “Sorry, this will be a little time consuming now, but once we have your size and style, the rest is easy-peasy!”

“You’re getting enjoyment out of this, aren’t you?” Katsuya complained quietly to Seto.

“I get to look at your ass in things that actually fit, so yes, I do find this satisfying.”

“You’re a pervert.”

“You have the audacity to call me a pervert, huh?” Seto laughed. “If only the world knew what you were into.”

“Fuck off.” Katsuya closed the changing room door behind him, and wiggled into the new jeans. They were firm, but the shopkeeper had explained to him that they should be, as they would stretch about half a size once worn in.

Okay, yeah, so these new jeans did make him look nicer. Maybe Seto had a point? Not that he wanted that smug bitch to win.

“Come on, show me,” Seto coaxed him out. Katsuya opened the door and Seto smiled at the new tee and jeans combo. “Much nicer, Katsu.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuya said, as he did a twirl, and went in to try on more. The next pair looked horrible, and he didn’t bother showing them all off, but the ones he did were two-thumbs-up from Seto, who, yes, was enjoying the fashion show.

“And finally,” the shopkeeper interrupted, “I’ve brought you some more formal wear to try on. These black pants with that vest, this suit with this shirt.” She passed them through, and Katsuya blushed at the idea of dressing like a suit.

But his boyfriend did it every day, and it did look pretty sexy.

He hesitantly opened the dressing room door, with the vest and suit pants on. Katsuya held his breath as Seto stared, taking in every detail, contour.

He looked incredible.

“That’s a yes,” Seto merely answered, and the two locked eyes, blushing. If there was a word better than yes, Seto couldn’t find the right one to use in public. He looked distinguished, professional, whatever the word was he couldn’t find it.

He looked hot, yeah. That worked. Katsuya suited the vest, and Seto was happy to begin searching for reasons to wear it.

Katsuya finally emerged back in his original wear, and Seto felt almost disappointed that he wasn’t still wearing that vest. Oh my, the ways he would sin if he got Katsuya alone after an excuse to wear that vest.

“Was that everything?” the shopkeeper asked, as she began to ring through the yes pile and detag the clothes.

“Yeah,” Katsuya mumbled.

“I believe so,” Seto replied, as he flicked through the silk ties by the counter, adding a few to the top. “You can never have too many colours,” he reasoned to the inquisitive stare. He handed over his platinum card without looking, and keyed in his PIN.

“Are ya sure you don’t mind paying for this?” Katsuya asked.

“It’s fine,” Seto waved him away.

-

“Do you like what you see?” Katsuya asked, as he slipped into the new skinny jeans once they’d gotten home.

“Why bother putting on new clothes if you’re just going to flirt your way out of them again?” Seto asked rhetorically.

“Well, you seemed to have a pretty strong reaction t’ the formal stuff.”

Seto drummed his fingers on the doorframe. “Don’t be surprised if I start finding more excuses to dress you up,” he merely replied without breaking eye contact.


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Nine - Hanging Out With Friends  
> Rated T for Cigarettes.

We’ve been hanging out in this group now for longer than I can remember, and it was a struggle getting him to come, but his younger brother managed to plead, beg, whatever, to get him to come for an hour, which then turned into a few, and now he stays all night until the sun begins to crack into Sunday morning.

 

My best friend wonders why I bothered inviting him when he kept turning down invitations, but persistence is key, and I don’t think it’s clicked in his head yet that this was for us, but maybe more for him.

 

They’re beginning to fall in love with each other, and I think they’re the only ones who don’t see it, but the rest of us know that their body language speaks louder than words.

 

We’ve all sworn to silence, until they’re ready to concede.

 

 

It’s an intricate softness nuanced in their fights now. It’s less of a punch, and more of a shove. It’s their eyes lock, with a smirk that lasts more than moments, and a different colour flame in their eyes to the one when they’re in the arena.

 

It’s making exactly three quips in a night, purposefully to get under each other’s skin, before ‘reluctantly’ taking the seat beside each other, even when another might end up free.

 

It’s going out at the same time to the balcony to indulge in a cigarette and watch over the city sparkle. It’s leaning back on the rail, closing his eyes and letting time pass a little more, before capturing a glance and letting out a small smile.

 

It’s coming back in, taking a seat on the same couch again, and slowly over the night, with a little more alcohol, their proximity softens and they’re no longer pressed against opposite arm rests.

 

It’s taking their second break, when one offers a more expensive brand without a word, and the other takes and nods a small thank you with a smile.

 

It’s the way their gaze smoulders around midnight, and a cheeky grin with rosy cheeks replaces the scowl; and words begin to slur.

 

It’s another cigarette, and an ‘accidental’ brush of their hands.

 

It’s beating each other in a video game, and only making a joke about being “second rate” once, before challenging each other again, as if the rest of us disappeared out of the room.

 

It’s thinking we’ve all fallen asleep, and continuing to make conversation until the morning rises, brushing fingertips along each other’s arms, moving hair out of their eyes.

 

It’s waking up, head against the others’ shoulders and no longer shoving the other off.

 

It’s noticing the transition into drinking the same things, smoking the same brand.

 

It’s sharing the last cigarette.

 

It’s wearing the same lip balm.

 

It’s offering the last pizza slice, even though he’s the human equivalent of a trash disposal.

 

It’s noticing his cologne rubbing off on him.

 

It’s noticing it’s no longer rubbing off, it’s just there.

 

It’s being happy for them, until they’re ready to say it out loud.

-


	10. With Animal Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Ten - With Animal Ears  
> Rated T for implied things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Whimzy, who is writing "New Tricks" (Rated E!) for inspiring this chapter.

“What the hell are you wearing, Bonkotsu?”

I looked at him standing in my doorway, wearing perky ears, paw gloves, face paint on his nose that must itch by now. I was almost astounded by the audacity to knock on my door with the nerd herd in tow, although they were sensible to hang back, and it was just him standing almost eye-to-eye with me. But then, it is him, and he knows no boundaries.

Katsuya struck a pose, momentarily keeping a poker face before scrunching his nose up. “Dis is my Halloween costume, you dork.”

“I can see that. Unlike a dog, I have perfect vision.”

“Fuck you, rich boy,” he taunted back. “You wouldn’t know fun if it danced naked in front of you.”

“On the contrary, it just seems like you’re…” I let the word dance on my tongue momentarily “ _begging_ to be bullied. Plus, _you_ turned up at _my_ mansion. You must be a sucker for _punishment_.”

He wasn’t quick enough to bite, with a crimson tickling his cheeks. I’d have to push a little harder to get a rise out of him.

“So, can this dog do tricks, because to deserve a treat, you have to do a trick for me.”

“What kind of degrading shit do you wan’ me to do?”

Any sane person would have walked away by now, but I wasn’t playing with any sane person.

“Nothing degrading in front of your…friends,” he stepped back momentarily, scanning my body language. He’s a special kind of messed up to have leaned in and whispered the words “I’ll do anything if you give me a treat, master.”

If nothing before sent ripples through my skin… I took a breath.

“Do you want to know why I chose to be a dog?” He asked.

“Because you’ve got a sick sense of humour,” I retorted.

“The best thing about dogs is they’re loyal,” he continued, ignoring my comment, resting his chin on his left hand, sinking delicately into the felt paw. He reached up to my face and brushed hair out of my eyes. “And, if their master treats them right, they’d do anything for them.” He pouted, with open eyes. “So, master, do you have a treat for me? Or will I have to beg?” He fluttered his eyelashes, smiling cockily.

What I wouldn’t give to have this boy under me.

“There’s a time and a place,” I said, noting the hiss under my voice. “Just take your candy and get out of my sight before…” I caught myself as I stepped back into the doorway, reaching to get the bags of candy I had made for those losers.

“Before what…” Katsuya danced around the words we both wanted to say.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” I thrust the bags towards him. “Now, go get some more candy.”

“No tricks?” He fired back.

“Not in front of your friends.”

He turned around to face his friends, who were beginning to cheer at his success. He turned around to meet me again, and cast his eyes up and down my body once more, before smirking.

“A dog’s favourite treat is the bone.”

He can be so observant.

“Well,” I swallowed. “Come back at eleven, and if you do a few tricks, you might get your real treat.”

“I’ll consider it,” he winked, as he sauntered back down the pathway to his loser friends.

I wonder if they know how depraved we are behind closed doors.


	11. Wearing Kigurumi's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Eleven - Wearing Kigurumi's  
> Rated K

It’s only natural that he lounges around on a Sunday morning in a Red-Eyes Onesie, cross-legged, watching children’s Anime in the lounge. He’s got a hot chocolate with marshmallows in one hand, and a plate of bacon and eggs on his lap. He laughs at bad puns on the TV, and sometimes Mokuba joins him, wrapped in a robe with slippers. I merely watch over from the kitchen table, laptop open, as I scroll through emails and sip on a long black.

It’s almost uncanny, despite the age difference, how well they get along. I’m unsure if it’s Mokuba’s maturity, Jou’s immaturity, or maybe a harmonious balance of both.

Day by day, I see Katsuya growing into the person I could see myself with forever. He studies hard these days; he’s got serious goals and a matching ambition; nothing like he was but a year ago. But it’s okay to keep a sparkle of childlike innocence, and I’m envious. I wish my heart was full like his, but it’s getting there. He’s teaching me how to relax, little by little.

Sometimes I wonder why he tolerates me; when he berates me with names like “Ice Prince” I can truly see how different we are. When he walks into a room, it brightens up, and he steals the show with his smile. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and has no problem communicating his whole spectrum of emotions. For me, they wait for me to speak when I step into a room, in a deathly silence in which I can almost hear my own heartbeat. I don’t speak about myself, I’m analytical.

Maybe that’s why he likes me. The calm and the storm; the fire and the ice.

I don’t enjoy being feared, but I have a job to do; I must ensure my brother is loved, comfortable, and protected. I think he understands, with his sister, it’s the same story. Everything he does it to make her proud. And she is, I can tell, even when she doesn’t say it.

Maybe I’ve got a lot more to learn from him. There’s got to be a little bit of solace using Sundays to avoid studying or working - to spend time with friends and family. What a concept? Mokuba and I haven’t had a routine like this before.

Maybe I’ll join him on Sunday morning. I’ll even dig out the Blue-Eyes Onesie. I wonder what his reaction will be?


	12. Making Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Twelve - Making Out  
> Rated M

You know those people who say sex gets boring after a couple has been together for a long time? I say they’re full of shit. We’ve been, well, officially together for about a year and a half now, but we’ve been, excuse my lack of ‘eloquence’ as he’d put it, fucking for about three.

Would you believe the great Seto Kaiba’s favourite foreplay is making out? I wouldn’t have. I didn’t; when we first used to fuck, it was rough and quick, but now it’s with a lot more tongue. And I’m not saying I mind, I’m just shocked, because at first he refused to kiss me at all, swearing that we were merely enemies with benefits. Incredible how things change.

These days, all our sex starts the same, but depending on where we are leads to how hot and heavy we get.

  
If it’s in the office, it’s usually because I’m bringing him lunch when he’s not scheduled for an appointment. I’ll ask him how his day is, and he’ll sigh and lean back into his chair, but clam up and not say a word. So, I’ll sit in front of him on his desk, and he’ll say something smartass about how it’s mahogany and it’s worth more than I am, and that I better not make any marks. So, I’ll tell him the only way to get me off is to give me a kiss. He’ll merely ghost his lips along mine, but it won’t be enough, and I’ll chase him back into his chair, pushing a knee beside his hips, and lean in for a proper kiss. It’ll start off as a stubborn kiss, with dry lips, but I’ll fight my way into his mouth where he tastes like coffee, he always tastes like coffee but this is more of a bitter and demanding taste, overpowering me, telling me who is _really_ in charge…

And then he’ll tell me how long we have.

If it’s less than fifteen minutes, I’ll leave him hanging, with a promise to continue at home. And I don’t intentionally make it difficult for him but I know it drives him crazy. If he gives me thirty, it’s game on, and he’s _mine_. The kisses start slower, and they _start_ on the mouth, but then somebody gets adventurous, and buttons to shirts begin coming undone. The friction as we shift and the promise of a release is usually enough to get us ready to tear clothes off.

If he has phone calls to take, I’ll keep teasing him, by palming the erection in his suit, and rolling my fingertips over his slit. He’ll put them on speakerphone, only unmuting himself to talk, so he can let out throaty sighs between. It’s not the business talk that makes me hot, but it’s watching him try to keep himself collected, as I unzip him and he shifts just enough to allow me to run my tongue slowly from the base of his cock to his tip; the longer he takes on the phone, the more time I spend teasing him until he’s purple and begging for me to take him whole in my mouth.

Of course, I’ll wait ‘til he’s done, I want to be the only one lucky enough to hear his moan. Those moments where he lets his lust overrun him are almost enough to make me orgasm without being touched. I did, once, and I was super embarrassed, but he thought it was even sexier, and cancelled his afternoon appointments and we fucked against that mahogany desk that he complained about me sitting on before.

 

If it’s in the limo, it’s only ever when we’re coming back from a party or a date, as we don’t have the facilities to preen ourselves. He rolls the partition up, and turns to me with a sly smirk. He’ll reach other and cup my cheek before planting a soft, but long kiss on my lips. As he pulls back, I follow his lips, until I’m straddling him with hands draped around his shoulders. We both tilt our heads to the right, and kiss deep and long, and he lightly sucks on the tip of my tongue. He runs his fingers through my hair, and down my spine and I shiver, arching to meet his touch. Those are the nights I’d consider that we do the closest thing to “making love” where, once we get home, we take it upstairs and keep going slow. I love spending an hour with his body, mapping every curve with my mouth and fingertips, I just wish we had the time to do it more often.

 

If it’s once he gets home, I’ll know he’s in the mood when he comes up behind me and sucks on my neck while I’m in the lounge watching TV. If there’s one thing that gets me in the mood without fail, it’s when he kisses my neck first, before trailing kisses around my jaw to my lips and attacking with fervour. Then, he’ll follow up with two words.

“Fuck me.”

And I will. I’ll chase him to the bedroom, locking the door behind us, and I’ll crash my lips upon his as we tear clothes off and he’ll taste like coffee and desperation. These kinds of fucks only last minutes, as he’s memorised the words to make me harder than a diamond. He’ll be leaking at the tip, and I’ll give him a suck as he helps me stretch and lube him up. He won’t touch me in that time, and I’ll feel the pulses run up and down my spine as I take in the sights of his face as he relaxes into my third finger, knowing he’s mere minutes away from clamping hard around my cock and milking me barren.

 

There’s other times he kisses me, but we’ve run into problems now that we’ve conditioned ourselves to kisses equal sex. I want to kiss him all the time, because he just tastes so damn good, and I want to bury my head in his neck and smell his cologne but if every sensual moment ends up turning into sex, it’s not the worst thing. In fact, I’d count myself as lucky.


	13. Chapter 13: Eating Ice-Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Thirteen - Eating Ice-Cream  
> Rated K+

Day Thirteen – Eating Ice Cream

-

The middle of summer sweltered above forty degrees in Domino City, and the beach was teeming with teens on summer holidays, under parasols with their feet in the glittering sea.

Joey, Yugi, Tristan, Tea, and Mokuba were playing in the sand by the beach, dipping their toes in the water for sweet relief.

And sitting under a blue parasol was Kaiba, who had been bullied into coming by Mokuba’s incessant whining. “You’ve gotta come, Seto. You’ve gotta!”

Joey had returned to the bags lying under said umbrella to get some sunscreen, but more importantly, to buy the whole crew some refreshments.

“Hey, moneybags,” Joey blew the fringe out of his eyes as he reached into his beach bag. “You should come out into the sun for a while.”

“I’d rather be tormented with five hundred meetings back to back.”

Joey poked his tongue out. “It’s not that bad, Seto. Jeez. What are you doing, anyway?”

Seto raised the book in his hands, and his eyebrows to match.

“Well, can’ya manage to put that down for a while. I was gon’ get some drinks for the guys. Could do with some more hands.”

Seto sighed, but placed his book down and got out of his beach chair. “Fine.”

“Lighten up,” Joey jabbed him softly in the ribs as they headed off the beach and to the pier side shops.

“What are you getting anyway, idiot?”

Joey shrugged. “I guessed I’d get everyone a lemonade or somethin’.” Joey peered into one of the carts and saw the list of ice-creams. “But, I’d love to get myself an ice-cream.” He opened his wallet, and noted there was only a twenty in there. “But, maybe not.”

Seto raised one eye, and motioned for the blonde to line up to buy drinks, while he slipped in line to grab an ice cream.

“Hi, what would you like?” the shopkeeper asked sweetly.

“Uh,” Seto looked quickly at the menu. “A triple scoop of the Cookies and Cream, with all the sprinkles and chocolate and whatever.”

“Certainly,” the girl smiled, and Seto tapped his card. She made the ice-cream in record time, drizzling it with chocolate, and sticking a chocolate bar into the side. Seto couldn’t help but be a mixture of impressed and disgusted at the sugary treat.

“What’s that?”

“It’s an ice-cream you moron.”

“No, why did you buy it?”

“Because.” And in Kaiba’s world, that’s a full explanation. But he still passed it to the ogling blonde, who looked wide-eyed at the billionaire.

“For me?” he squeaked.

“Yes, unless you’d like to feed it to the birds, which you will if you don’t start licking it because it’s starting to melt.

“Oh right, um, thanks!” Joey giggled while grinning, as he licked around the edge of the cone, pushing the ice cream back on straight with his tongue. Seto stood and watched as he made a mess of himself as they settled at a beach just behind the sand dunes, where the group still on the beach wouldn’t see them, just momentarily. Joey put the bag of drinks down, balancing his ice cream in one hand, and his spare snaked through Seto’s. Seto smiled momentarily, leaning in to kiss the ice cream on the blond’s nose. Joey blushed at the featherlight kiss that lasted no longer than moments. They sat interlinked for no more than a minute, and Seto’s stomach knotted at the thought that he wasn’t playing it safe anymore, and that their relationship was starting to slip out.

He wasn’t sure that he cared anymore.

“When are we going to tell them?” Joey asked softly, as if he’d read Seto’s mind.

Seto shrugged. “They deserve to know when they figure it out for themselves.” Seto looked around at the families and couples absorbed in their own worlds. “Or, when one of these losers takes a photo and sends it to the news.” As they stood up, Seto and Joey’s hands parted slowly. Joey looped the bag of drinks around his right hand, and while standing on his tiptoes, he kissed Seto on the forehead before they headed back to the beach, half-eaten ice-cream and lemonades in tow.


	14. Genderswapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Fourteen: Genderswapped  
> Rated: T for language and violence.

I’ve decided that Seto’s a bitch right down to her core. She’s always sitting in front of me because our last names are so close, with gold studs in her ears – well against the school rules. She’s always got this serious look on her face, and she’s always typing frantically on her computer which makes the tip of her wavy brunette pigtail bob. I’ve tried being friendly to her and she’s just scoffed at the idea of talking to somebody who “can’t enunciate.” Whatever that means.

I don’t know much about her aside from physical details, but she’s always dressed in brand names, and I guarantee her Louis Vuitton laptop bag is real. She’s either got a rich father, or she’s a Sugar Baby. Maybe her typing is lewd messages in exchange for more bank? Ew, why did I even think that? I need some brain-bleach.

 

-

 

Seto’s taken an obvious distaste to me to the point that the class does a collective sharp inhale when we cross paths. We accidentally ended up in a schoolyard scrap when I’d bumped into her and knocked her cellphone out of her hand. It was truly an accident and the screen didn’t shatter, but she hooked me like she’d learned it on the streets, and reflex had me swinging right back without a moment to think what I was doing. She didn’t pull hair or scratch like other catfights, she meant to hurt me, and I’ve grown up on the streets fighting my way up the gang hierarchy despite being a girl. These were real punches, real kicks, and real insults and what’s worse is she smells like a cinnamon latte and I lose my focus momentarily so she always has the upper hand, which makes it all the more insulting.

I think she paid her way out of detention, because I’m sitting here alone watching the minutes tick by.

Typical rich bitch.

 

-

 

I don’t know why guys think that Seto is the type of girl they’d like to ask to prom, but now that the date is announced, she’s had seventeen guys approach her just today (yeah, I counted) and she ruthlessly threw their invitations in the garbage and threatened them to get out of her personal space. mentioned something quite loudly about them “missing something” and scowled at them all.

Any other girl in this school would probably be delighted to have such a pick, but not Seto. She’s such a spoiled brat. She doesn’t even look in your eyes when she’s replying so condescendingly like you don’t even deserve to lick her strappy boots.

The way she’s been conditioned to get what she wants sounds pretty Sugar-Babyish.

During another one of our scraps that were becoming too regular for comfort, I asked her why she broke all those guys hearts, and she just scoffed and asked me if I was blind or just stupid. She pointed at me with her left hand, before giving me an inverted peace sign and poked her tongue out before flicking her hair and coat and walking away. It was possibly the crudest thing I’d ever seen, especially coming from somebody so upkept as her.

I wonder what’s entrenched itself so far up her ass to think she’s better than me.

 

-

 

Well, I fucked up, didn’t I? During one of our fights I’d wrangled the advantage and had her pinned to the ground by her wrists. She was grinning back at me with a crooked smile, and I just wanted to wipe it off her porcelain skin, so I told her the only reason she thought she was better than us was because she must have a Sugar Daddy. I’ve never felt someone’s blood run cold until her wrists were under my fingertips and she shoved back harder than I’d ever felt her fight back. “You don’t know my fucking life!” She screamed, before punching me in the temple and walking off as my face kissed the ground and my vision blurred.

 

-

 

Okay, I admit that I deserved that last punch, but she hasn’t talked to me for a week, and every time she’s in class with me she gives me the coldest stare like her life has seeped out of her. I almost feel like I owe her an apology, except I’m sure she’ll be back at it next week and apologies are for losers and no matter what she says I’m not a loser.

 

-

 

It’s been two weeks now since she last spoke a word to me that wasn’t in-class mandated, and I’ve got to get to the bottom of it, so I cornered her after class in an empty hallway. She tried to sidestep me and I grabbed her wrist and told her to stay. She yanked away but I wouldn’t budge until she stopped and turned to look me dead in the eyes.

“What do you want with me?”

I looked around and pulled her into an empty classroom as not to make a scene, blocking the door while still holding her wrists.

“Why are you avoiding me now?”

She spat in my face and tried to twist her body away from me. “You don’t deserve my time, asshole.”

“Yeah, well, you thought I was ‘deserving’ for ages. Speak up, princess.”

She dug her manicured nails into my wrists but I refused to let go, feeling her pulse running through her quicken.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Fuck off you’re not. You’re just like him.”

I dropped my hands and she pulled away but faltered before she left the room.

Well, that’s a can of worms I wasn’t expecting.

 

-

 

I look at her differently now, and notice more things about her than my friends and classmates. I notice that she’s slightly less put together some mornings, and sometimes her mug has something a little harder than just coffee and milk but I won’t tell because she’s never let her guard down in front of anybody else in this room. Some mornings she’s wearing glasses, and others I assume contacts. The glasses cover her under-eye bags and she tends to wear a little more makeup too.

I can’t stop watching her and worrying about her to the point it’s becoming an obsession and I start to wonder if I’m feeling okay myself.

 

-

 

I’m sitting in my room watching a movie on my tablet with earbuds in. Dad’s not home most nights but I tend to stay quiet anyway as not to disturb him… he always wanted a boy so my younger brother is his favourite.

In this scene, there’s a girl who’s been looking at the main character the same way that Seto looks at me now. I’d almost call it smouldering but I think that’s reserved for a romantic sense. They’re having fights the way we do and it’s almost like this is a movie made about us.

They’re standing at the pool and the tall brunette is wearing a two-piece in silver, the redhead is asking her if she’s going to take one of the guys who asked her to prom.

She says no, and does an inverted peace sign, sitting it below her chin and winks.

And it fucking hits me.


	15. In A Different Clothing Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Fifteen - In a Different Clothing Style  
> Rated K+

If any of Jounouchi’s friends are aware that his little night job he keeps blowing them off for is dressing in drag and performing at the same club they frequent, they’re not letting on in the slightest.

Her name is Kandi, and she’s dressed in a high-cut bodysuit with knee-high boots. Her hair is cumulonimbus with a tiara stuffed in the mess, and matching jewels hanging off her earlobes. She’s padded well with a cinched waist, and her signature eyes are bright, framed with blue hues to bring out her honey.

They’ve got to be blind to not notice they’re his eyes under the centimetre of foundation and eyeliner.

She’s making good money these days, she’s booked every Friday and Saturday night all over town, and with the resurgence of drag culture being appreciated she’s made enough money to move out of home, and support herself with her day job by buying more makeup and tights.

I think it’s been a great outlet for her too. Jounouchi has been a lot less rebellious and loud since she started here like this has been an outlet for her pent-up frustration. I get it, being young and gay is difficult and it feels like everyone’s against you so why not put on a mask and tell the world to screw itself.

I stand against the stage and she looks at me, and every weekend I’m here I pretend not to notice that I know who’s behind the fierce paint, but simply slip her a ten-thousand-yen tip and saunter out after she winks at me and stuffs it in her bra.

This is the only way I can have a moment with him without commitment.


	16. During Their Morning Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Sixteen: During Their Morning Rituals  
> Rated PG

The morning starts with an alarm at 5:30am. I silence my alarm and rise out of bed, with a sleepy “love you” that follows, before he immediately relapses into slumber.

I slip into a shower, lather my hair, wash it out quickly. I wash my face with his honey scrub and it sounds sappy but the scent is just something small I can take with me that’s personal and unnoticeable. He must know that he runs out twice as quick these days but he never mentions it.

I step out of the shower, massaging my scalp with the towel to dry it, and as it continues to air-dry, I work from my head to my toes, blotting the water droplets away. I lean into the mirror and begin to work on my face, shaving my chin and moisturising around my eyes. A comb runs through my hair which then gets matted down with product, and I run a little bit of concealer under my eyes to mask how tired this job makes me sometimes.

I sneak back into my room and open my closet. A stir from the bed mutters a few inaudible words, and a I smile to myself as I pick out my suit for the day.

“Come back to beddddd,” he whines, sitting up in the pile of pillows and sheets and dishevelled hair, with one leg sticking out the blanket.

“Sorry,” I say back, pulling my socks out of the drawer.

“Your butt is so cute,” he remarks as I lift my legs to roll my socks on, “bring it here.”

“Your libido is frightening,” I remark back, slipping into my boxers with an unpleased whine from the bed.

“You just don’t know how to have a good time.”

I ignore him for a while, slipping into my suit, tucking my shirt into my pants, and taking a look in the mirror before slipping out of our bedroom.

“Love you,” he repeats for the second time this morning.

“Love you too,” I hesitate in the doorway, before turning back to kiss him on the lips before I depart.


	17. Spooning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Seventeen: Spooning  
> Rated T: Language
> 
> DISCLAIMER: There is no spooning. Just eating dessert with a spoon. I write enough smut for you. I started out writing smut but ended up writing over 3,000 words of First-Person Seto-Centric fluff instead.

How he ended up in the top two with me was a fact I struggled to reason with, but the fact that I would remain the season winner was inevitable.

“Your luck based deck just couldn’t beat mine.” I shrugged as the arena powered down and my name was called as the official winner to the fans screaming on the side lines. We’d been down this path before, and I was sick of name calling now that I didn’t have to see him slacking off at school, coming in twenty minutes late and falling asleep at his desk.

He huffed. “Because drawing the right cards to win isn’t luck based too? You’d be fucked if your Blue-Eyes ended up at the bottom of your deck by chance. If your Emergency Provisions didn’t end up giving you an extra four-thousand life points.”

“You’re still inferior, Jounouchi.” And, without further provocation, I left him there stewing in his loss to face the media.

As is customary at the wrapping up of a tournament, our evenings were filled with interviews. “How does it feel to win?” versus “how does it feel to get so close, yet again, and miss the championship by two-hundred life points.” I know which side I’d rather be on, and it feels damn good to be back on top.

He smiles into the camera anyway, like he enjoys duelling as a hobby and I despise his positivity. Second-best isn’t something worth being happy about but he’s infectious and the star of the night, despite his placement.

The crowds bother me because they think this is invitation for me to talk with them, and I keep drinking to tolerate their pestering between the hours of sponsor-backed interviews and talks with investors I don’t need.

I heard Jounouchi had gotten a lot of prize money from placing second, as well as an official sponsorship from Pegasus himself. I laughed inwardly at their attempts to dethrone me time and time again while being too dense to fathom that insanity is just doing the same thing over and over again, while expecting shit to change.

I was officially number one again and nothing felt better than being continuously untouchable.

I thought he would have gone home hours ago, but for some reason he was still around in the small hours of the morning, with a crooked smile sitting with his legs swung over an armrest of a plush couch in the foyer with an almost-full glass of wine in his hand. I wondered where his friends had all gone, but maybe they were never here. It was just another competition if the King of Games wasn’t involved.

He ought to find new friends then. How unsupportive, even though I find the concept of friendship boring.

And with sake-filled cockiness, I made the first move and it surprises me to this day.

“Why are you still here?”

He stared into my eyes and I could tell he was wasted. “I got comfortable,” he admitted, pulling his legs off the arm rest.

“Do you want me to call you a taxi?” I asked, realising how incapacitated he was. While being a lukewarm rival, I didn’t wish him harm and he couldn’t feasibly stay here all night as the servers cleared the halls and prepped to leave.

“Call me whatever you want as long as you call me,” he grinned at me and I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. I’ll leave you to wallow in your stupor.”

I attempted to grab his glass from his hands but he shot me a glare and downed it without a second thought. “Why do you care?” he asked back.

I don’t know.

“Come on. I’ll get you dropped home.”

“Nah.” The wine on his breath hit me strongly and I recoiled a little.

I furrowed my brows at him. “You can’t just stay here.”

“I can’t just go home either,” he yawned. “I’ll leave. Find a hotel or somethin’. Walk off the alcohol.”

“Fine.” My brain was slower than my mouth and I recoiled after I said “I’ll take you back to mine. Just be gone by nine.”

“Sure.” He stumbled as he got up, and I extended my hand to support him.

We ended up silent in the back of the limo for the first half hour of our trip, as he nodded between sleep and sudden alertness; in those periods he stared out the window, and then would periodically check his phone, and then drift back to sleep again.

“Thanks.” His voice cut through the silence after a while.

“It’s fine.”

“Y’not that bad,” he continued. “Y’a bit of an ass but y’not that bad.”

“Don’t say anything you’ll regret, Jounouchi,” I scolded before turning to see him slouching.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he stated, before grinning.

I stared out the window at the city lights, as we passed by Domino City towards my place.

“Why isn’t the great Kaiba takin’ someone home with him?”

I snapped my focus back to him, with his obnoxious grin. “What’s that meant to mean?”

“There were girls throwing themselves at you all night. Surely the reclaimed King of Games needs to be throned in other ways.” He raised his eyebrows and winked at me.

“Why’s the great Jounouchi Katsuya not taking someone home with him?” I threw the question back with a bitter twist. What business of his was it anyway?

“Nobody knows I’m gay,” he said with a chuckle, before throwing his hand on my shoulder. “Well, I guess you do now sooooo,” he shrugged. “Congratulations for being number one again tonight?”

My stomach twisted in the strangest way. Jounouchi Katsuya. Coming out to me in the backseat of my limo while plastered after lambasting me for not taking a girl home. Ironic.

“How long have you known?” I asked after a period of silence, not wanting to buy into his confession but still being incredibly curious.

“Well, I don’t know. Probably when Mai asked me out with her tits in my face and it did nothin’ for me. My friends thought I was crazy and maybe I was. Listed all d’ reasons why we shoulda worked out and then I figured out it was just the fact that she was a woman.”

“More than a little too old for you at the time, I might add,” I said with a sour taste for the mid-twenties Barbie.

“Well, yeah,” he giggled. “But who doesn’t have that fantasy of being fucked by your friends hot older sister.” After a pause he laughed. “Well, apparently I don’t.”

My throat went dry and I knew it wasn’t just the impending hangover though I made a mental note to drink some water just to be sure.

“Anyway, sorry for intruding on your space Kaiba, you’re totally not the worst. Sorry for the random confession too. Sorry for makin’ ya take me home.”

I shrugged. “I said it’s fine.”

He hiccupped and laughed again as we pulled into my driveway, and his eyes filled with awe at the mechanical gates.

“Thanks for not makin’ fun of me about the bein’ gay thing.”

I shrugged again. “It’s nothing to make fun of you with. I’ve got many things to mock you about if I feel so indulged.”

I helped him up, through the kitchen and up the staircase to a made-up room with a small ensuite. He dragged his feet as I carried him through my house, but stayed relatively quiet after a slight warning about keeping Mokuba asleep.

“Are you able to take care of yourself from here?”

“Yup!” he exclaimed, and threw himself fully-clothed onto the bed, sinking into the pillows. I walked out of the room and as I shut the door, he called out “thank you prince charming.”

Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.

-

I thought that was going to be a one-time thing, and he was more than happy to leave me alone. I don’t know if it was sheer embarrassment, or if he felt indebted to me and was avoiding repayment, but when we ended up in rooms during tournaments together he avoided me unless we duelled. There was something about his aura though, every time he left the room I felt his eyes fall on me.

Though lady luck would move in the most mysterious of ways, and we’d find ourselves in the same top-two pairing in a tournament two months later, and I won by a small margin, but a victory nonetheless.

I didn’t humour him with an insult, instead just going through the motions as we always did, between interviews and sponsorships and fans wanting photographs.

And both of us being drunk again, except this time out of the city and in a function room of a hotel we would later stay at. Regional and National finalists didn’t have to pay for travel or accommodation which was how he could afford to keep attending. Competitions meant he couldn’t keep a steady job so he relied on his winnings to pay for rent, or so I heard.

“Oh, hey, Kaiba,” he said with a slur, while leaning against a wall by the elevators.

“Jounouchi.” I merely nodded and pressed the button, waiting for the elevator to reach our level, the bright lights in the hall laying truth to our stupor.

“What’cha doing?”

“Going to bed.” I teetered a little, but caught my balance before he noticed, before he could make a conversation about it.

“That’s a good idea,” he grinned, pulling his wallet out to find his key card. He stepped into the elevator with me, and I press the button to my floor while he rifled around looking for his. I noticed it was brand new, and deduced that it must have been a gift with the Industrial Illusions logo printed on the coin pocket.

“Uhhh.” He pats his pockets down and then flushes red. “Typical me, losing shit.”

I stifle a laugh and feign a voice of concern. “Where did you last see your key?”

“I don’t know man, when we got given the timetables for our matches.”

I rolled my eyes. It could really be anywhere by now considering our arena was shut, and the check-in for the hotel was closed so it’d be a while before anybody could get down to reception to issue him a new room key.

“Guess I’ll be seein’ you later,” he muttered as the elevator dinged and the doors opened to my floor.

I sighed and grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the elevator. “I have a spare bed.”

“What?” He blinked thrice, before realising what I was saying.

I tapped my door open, and he stood in the door dumbfounded at the suite; views of the city sprawling for miles with lights twinkling. The bathroom door was open and he could see a jacuzzi.

“Wow.”

I laughed to myself, before pulling him inside and shutting the door behind him. He took a seat on my couch and overlooked the city with awe for minutes, while I headed to my own room to take my coat and shoes off.

“Is this the usual kind of gig for you?” he asked, leaning back into the couch with his eyes fluttering closed. “This whole, penthouse suite and view of the city shiz?”

“Yes.”

“That’s fuckin’ cool man. If you’re ever lookin’ for someone to share this with…” the room went silent and he jumped off the couch. “Ahhh, I mean…”

“Were you propositioning me, Jounouchi,” I asked bluntly, and he hid his face behind his hands.

“Ah shit like, no, but like, yeah, no, I don’t know man I’m sorry. I need’a go to bed! And ahhh, my own bed not yours shit I ah…” he hid his face in his hands, cheeks magenta.

“Your room is to the right. Don’t make a mess and don’t make any noise, and check out is at ten so I expect you to be gone well before then.”

“Why do you keep helping me out?”

“It’s twice, Jounouchi,” I growled. “It’s not a recurring thing.”

“How will I repay you?”

“You don’t need to,” I say curtly, before leaving the living area and shutting my own door behind me.

-

For the weeks that followed, all I could think about was the implications of him propositioning me.

Did he _like_ me? And if so, _why_?

I shrugged it off more than once to the concept of puppy love; I was the first person he told about his sexuality and I’d not mocked him for it. Maybe in his pathetic mind he’d taken that as acceptance and even as invitation.

Surely not. He’d hated me just as much as I’d hated him.

But the universe thrust us together again, thanks to our siblings becoming friends many years ago. Now nearing eighteen, the pair had decided to be best friends after a continued online friendship following the magic bullshit from years prior, and Shizuka had moved nearer Domino City for University in the coming Spring.

I saw Jounouchi sitting under Sakura trees outside the main shopping mall, while our siblings shopped up a storm of stationary and new clothes now they were out of their seifuku.

“Good afternoon.” He looked happy, sun bleaching the tips of his hair.

“Hello,” I greeted with a pause. He invited me to sit down by moving his bag from the seat and I complied.

“It’s funny how we can’t get along but our siblings are best friends,” he commented, leaning back into the wooden frame.

“I’d say the last two times haven’t been intolerable,” I rebutted.

“True. You’ve actually been kind of nice.”

I stared at the ground, counting the Sakura petals around my feet, and feeling the spring breeze sweep across my cheeks. The comment didn’t need a reply. I had been unusually nice, but it hadn’t inconvenienced me to be so.

“What’s been happening in your life?”

I shrugged. Nothing to note. “Work.”

“That it?”

“It’s a lot more complicated than you’d ever understand.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t,” he replied. “But if work’s the only thing you’re doing, you’re missing out on life.”

“Enlighten me,” I replied curtly. “What’s so wonderful and special that you think I’m missing out on?”

“Friends, family, nature. Love.”

I rolled my eyes. “Your friends are never here so don’t give me that spiel.”

Jounouchi looked at his feet and for a moment I felt guilty for bringing their absence up, before remembering that I truly didn’t care. “Surely the great Seto Kaiba wants somebody to love though,” he said softly as a sakura petal fell into his blonde mess.

I shrug and look away from him again, feeling a tightness in my chest. “It’s not a priority.”

“Why can’t you make it one?” he asked and I felt a lump in my throat.

“Because whoever I date is going to be after my money.”

“Then marry a rich girl.”

“I’m not a heterosexual, Jounouchi.”

The world filled with silence. In a world where my secrets were public news, this was the very last thing to drop.

“Well, that’s a plot twist if I ever saw one,” he muttered, lifting himself from the park bench. “This world really is a bit of a joker.”

“And what’s that meant to mean,” I felt my fists tighten as my body chose fight over flight, seeing his form standing above me like he was mocking me.

“It’s just…” and he muttered words that I couldn’t hear and I just looked incredulously at him until he repeated them just loud enough for me to catch. “It was easier to forget about pursuing you when I thought I had no chance in hell.”

As he left I wanted to follow with “there’d still be no chance in hell of that” but I couldn’t bring myself to say it because I wasn’t so sure I believed it.

-

An eventful season for tournaments followed, while I was working hard to release a new version of the Duel Disk. It was Autumn, and almost four months after I’d last seen Jounouchi at a finals party. I hadn’t been following him, but had heard he was consistent in his rankings, placing a solid second, and wasn’t shocked to see him facing me off again in the arena.

I scraped by a victory again, and it made me uncomfortable enough to note that I needed to change my deck again before we faced off in another tournament. I couldn’t have him getting under my skin. But he did, somehow. I’d been faced with those thoughts again and they weren’t subsiding.

He was lounging around the events room, eating a parfait with his legs kicked up onto a foot rest. I came to sit beside him, feeling familiarity of his presence.

“Not drinking?”

He grinned, and let his tongue dance along the spoon a moment longer than necessary. “I might have convinced them to put Bailey’s in this. Like, a lot.” I noticed his voice tiptoe around a slur and I figured he might be further gone than I was.

“Jounouchi, do you like me?”

The words came out of my mouth before I’d had a chance to practise my prose. I really was beginning to get in trouble with drinking and spending time near him within the duellist circles.

“Excuse me?” He asked, a little too politely, propping himself up by his chin on the arm rest to look at me.

“I asked do you like me?” I repeated, more confidently, content to blame alcohol if this blew up in my face. There were no crowds, just the two of us in a corner drunkenly mumbling about whatever the fuck rivals do, and no more cameras around, even though post-midnight is where the fun of the rich typically begins.

“Sure,” he blew hair out of his eyes. “I don’t hate ya.”

“I asked if you liked me,” I repeated, strongly, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I mean, I do yeah. So, are you going to laugh at me about it?”

“I’d like me too,” I said, and he laughed at me for a solid minute.

“Egotistical.”

“At least I’m confident enough to make the first move now.”

He studied my face with his golden eyes, waiting for a falter of honesty but I was adamant I was making the right choice for the right reasons.

“So, how does this work? I’d buy y’ a drink but the bar’s closed and it’s not that kind of party.”

I waved my hand at him. “I don’t want your hospitality.”

“Then, what do you want from me?” he asked.

I didn’t have an answer for it. “Would you like to come and have a drink in my room?”

“I don’t want your hospitality,” he repeated back, but his eyes lit up. “Yeah, that sounds like fun.” I hinted towards the elevators, and he followed behind me with a smile lighting up his alcohol-tinged cheeks.


	18. Doing Something Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Eighteen: Doing Something Together  
> Rated G

Nobody was in the Kaiba Mansion during the weekdays that Katsuya wasn’t rostered to work, so he’d spent some of his down-time re-learning the guitar. Only as a hobby had he picked up a second-hand guitar many moons ago, and had only played it when nobody else was around, but he fancied himself ‘pretty alright’ if someone asked. Although he hadn’t played for a while, muscle memory guided him and he slipped back into familiarity as he brushed his fingers against the strings.

He’d never taken it seriously before now, assuming his father would have just made fun of him, but he’d bought a clear file after work the day before, and had printed out some more well-known songs he was wanting to learn, singing softly to find his beat.

Although a weekday, Seto had opted to work from home on a project before he flew out to a regional office later that day, so it was by chance he was still around while Katsuya had assumed he was away. He’d heard the noise drift through his cracked door while he finished up his paperwork, putting his laptop and charger in his briefcase. He peered down the hallway and noticed Katsuya’s door was also open, watching while Katsuya lost himself in the music, blonde hair over his eyes. He thought whether to make any smart quips but fought off the urge, rather just knocking on the door carefully.

Katsuya got a fright and stopped mid-strum. “Oh…uh…hi!” His face filled out red and Seto stifled a laugh.

“How long have you been learning for?”

“Ahhhh,” Katsuya kept blushing. “Not that long like I…I’m not that good or anythin’ I don’t really practise I’m just…” Katsuya rambled and Seto cleared his throat which snapped Katsuya’s verbal meltdown.

“You’re not bad, Jounouchi.”

Katsuya fell silent. “Uhh thanks…” he spluttered out after a while, absorbing such a compliment of the highest calibre from Mr Tall Dark and Dysfunctional.

“Do you have a moment?” Seto asked.

Katsuya merely nodded, and Seto tilted his head as to indicate their relocation.

Katsuya trailed Seto down the flight of stairs into a room with tall windows and a polished wooden floor, hidden through a door in the downstairs library. Katsuya had frequently had the house to himself, but hadn’t noticed the door hidden beside a tall mahogany bookshelf during his fleeting curiosities. The library had almost felt private, being filled with books in many languages, like Katsuya would have been snooping on Seto’s deepest secrets.

In the centre was a grand piano in crisp white, but tucked away against the length of one wall was a slim cupboard. Without words, Seto opened the first of many sliding doors, exposing an indescribable mass of instruments, from flutes, to everything from the Violin family, a keyboard, and a stash of guitars in different sizes. There were folded up stands and other Piano chairs, and stacks of music on a bookshelf inside the cupboard.

“Whoa…” Katsuya breathed incredulous at such a collection. Of all people, he hadn’t quite expected such an exquisite collection from Seto, despite his accumulation of money.

While Katsuya marvelled, Seto pulled up a chair beside the piano, and grabbed some music from within his piano stool.

“Guitar Duets,” he simply clarified. “Grab a guitar.”

Katsuya nodded, not quite sure where this was leading but feeling shy. He picked a jet-black Yamaha off its hooks, and sat down in the presented chair, and Seto opened the piano lid and cracked his fingers, stretching his arms up.

“I needed an excuse to come in here.” He handed Katsuya the book. “Pick something.”

Katsuya looked at the cover, noticing the book was a recent collection of Western Pop and Rock music. “I thought you would be more of a classical guy.”

“I collect everything,” Seto replied, as he started warming up on the piano with scales before launching into something classical-sounding. “I just barely have the time.”

Katsuya picked a song out shyly, and put the music in front of Seto. “It’s not super recent, but I figure you know this.”

“Interesting choice.” Seto closed his eyes, letting Katsuya lead with his first guitar chords before matching his pace on the piano.

Katsuya was the first to sing, repeating the first verse softly before Seto gauged the appropriate range, tacking his own voice on hesitantly at the chorus.

The song told of a loss of love through distance and time, and although cliché, Seto could admit that their voices sounded natural together despite the way they clashed in every other way. Without sounding like a sap, he likened it internally to the crashing of the waves against the rocks on a beach; both destructive but an also oddly calming white noise.

As the song finished, Katsuya looked tentatively at Seto, incredulous that they’d ended up in this room singing a duet like a cheesy TV show. Seto almost had a genuine smile on his face, and as he turned to see Katsuya’s face he tried to wipe the happiness of his with fail.

“I’ve got a flight to catch,” Seto rested his fingers lightly on the keys before closing the lid. “I’ll see you in a few days. Don’t break anything but this room is free for you to use.”

Katsuya sat in the chair, hearing the click of the door behind him, and noticing the linger of Seto’s musk beside him, unable to grasp what had just happened.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that inspired this was "Payphone" by Maroon 5.
> 
> This fic was cut from a new work in progress but it felt out of place after I added more to it. I hope you liked the style of this.


	19. In Formal Wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Nineteen - In Formal Wear.  
> Rated M+ for Sexual Content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ties in with Day Five: Kissing.

I have a secret stash of magazines under my futon.

Before you give me that look, what guy doesn’t? I know for a fact that Honda does. His are stowed in a box, named “past exams” under a thin pile of attempted practice tests for the National Centre Test. He figured that his mother wouldn’t pry if she ever did come across the box while cleaning. Yuugi has even been known to lend me a video or two that he stole off Gramps, which I’ve only ever watched when I know Dad’s gone out to the casino, volume on super low so the neighbours can’t hear shit. The girls with the huge tits and caked on makeup don’t really do anything for me, but a guy’s gotta masturbate with what he’s got, right?

Mine aren’t pornographic, well, not in the traditional sense. Hey, it kinda weirds me out to be admitting this to you, but mine are just regular Duel Monsters magazines that I’ve saved over the years and before you think I’m some pervert jerking it to the Dark Magician Girl, let me explain.

I found out my fuckin’ hairpin trigger was Seto Kaiba in a suit. Talk about a way to have my sexual awakening. He came to school to sit an exam in a tightly fitted grey-blue three-piece, and my god when I saw his ass as he bent down to tie his shoe, it was two perfect buns tucked neatly in fabric that didn’t leave anything to the imagination. I reckon if I could have seen him front on and close, I coulda given you an accurate measurement of his dick.

Sorry. I’m getting sidetracked. Yeah, so, I could hardly concentrate on my exam because I was thinking about what his cocky face would look like, hair messy and in his icy-blue eyes, writhing around on a plush bed. I almost choked on my water, and I desperately wanted to leave the classroom to compose myself but everyone would have totally seen my hard-on, so I spluttered in relative silence and turned red.

So, those magazines all have articles with interviews of Seto fuckin’ Kaiba, in suits that really fit him and bring out the colours in his skin, his eyes, his hair. He looks so handsome. My stomach twisted the first time I read a magazine after and saw him in that same suit from school, and I popped an instant boner. A moment of nausea washed over me but I fought through it, and closed my eyes to that image of his perfect ass bending over, asking me to pin him to a bed with his demanding, gravelly voice, while I took care of my problem.

 

I thought my ‘crush’ or whatever you wanna call it was innocent enough. Nobody was getting hurt and my secret wasn’t getting found out, and I’d almost found comfort as I collected those innocent-looking magazines and watched his interviews as they came on TV with a throbbing between my legs when he’d gracefully enter or exit. It was a routine. It even became routine to jack off before school, even though the uniforms weren’t sexy by any means, just to play it safe.

But then he goes and calls a fuckin’ tournament where we end up stuck on a blimp. Before getting my ass handed to me by Marik, we had thrown insults and lengthy stares in the hallway. I’d succumbed to his tight leather pants and needed plenty of time alone. I can’t tell you if it was sexual tension, or just my wishing it to be, but I swear he was smouldering at me. I even made effort to dress a little nicer, spending a small portion of prior earnings updating my wardrobe, though I knew I was dreaming.

After we’d had our ‘bronze duel,’ something about him changed. As we spent another night in the air, I was walking between my room and Yuugi’s, and he’d just been there in the hallway,

“I trust that you’ve stopped tempting fate,” he said, with grey eyes piercing through my soul and I took a step backwards, making eye contact with him and feeling my cheeks flush.

And then somehow, we’d exchanged enough words that caused him to push me into the fucking wall and everything fired up within me. I could only have dreamed of this day, but he pinned me harder into the wall with his bodyweight and pushed his lips forcefully against mine. I felt his heat in all the places that could get me in trouble and I know I fuckin’ moaned into his mouth like a horny piece of shit but I can’t express how much I’d wanted this by accident.

And then his phone cockblocked us. Mokuba called, and he left tousled, with an obvious erection too. I think if he hadn’t have fielded that phone call we would have lost our virginities. I slunk back to my room and sent Yuugi a message that I’d be there soon, and that something had just come up, because it certainly had.

 

I don’t think he was avoiding me, because he would continue to smoulder at me across the room when he was positive nobody else was watching. Back on ground we were forced to come to a KaibaCorp sponsored meet-and-greet, but the food was free and the prize money more than covered a decent outfit for the event, some new cards, and a thousand bucks in savings. It seemed Kaiba wasn’t so stingy when he didn’t want to be. Mindblowing, I know.

Up on stage, Seto stood under bright lights, in a gold and black suit, with a blue tie. The gold really brought out the colour of his eyes and it was nothing on seeing his photos in a magazine or interview on an old TV. In real life, Kaiba looked like a dessert that I should have the pleasure of devouring.

Like Pavlov’s Dog or something equally as ironic, I’d conditioned myself to get hard to his fucking suits. I felt like an idiot, but I also figured that he hadn’t threatened to kill me since he’d kissed me so maybe the ball was in my court. Half-mast and brave, I deviated from Yuugi and his fans, to the back of the stage where Seto was alone and pissed off.

“Hey,” I mumbled, and he snapped his attention back to me.

“What do you want, Jounouchi,” he grumbled back.

I bit my tongue, and marched straight up to him. “To finish what we started.” His eyes darkened and he stared straight into my soul as if he was choosing which way to torture me. I leaned in a little closer. “I want to tear that suit off your body.”

“It’s not worth your life,” he rapid-fired back, a sly smirk on his lips, and the air between our bodies was thick with a scent that I could only describe as lust. His breath brushed my lips and I flicked my head back and closed my eyes for just a moment before pushing myself away from him, remembering we were in a public place, after all.

 

It just so happened that I’d gotten so under his skin. While nothin’ happened during that meet and greet, I could tell the tension was going to snap every time I walked through the halls at school. Always a step behind me, I could feel his eyes on my ass. I’d even be so kind to tease him, dropping a book and having to bend over to pick it up.

Every night, I relinquished myself to those magazines, starting to pile up. I even had an alert on my phone. I was obsessed with getting the real Seto Kaiba under my fingertips though. Teenage lust, an unhealthy obsession, whatever you wanted to call it, I was ready to feel his lips and heat against mine. It’s not as if it was unwelcome, he was goading me and I was falling for the bait, and I even considered the possibility that he was just playing but I also didn’t think I cared if I could have him just once.

 

He came to meet the school principal, dressed too well for school grounds, on a Friday afternoon. His absences were commonplace, and he always submitted his assignments before he’d leave on business trips that could last two or three weeks at a time. His absences gave me slight reprieve from my sick thoughts, but seeing him in that same grey-blue three-piece destroyed any chance of me catching up with my friends this evening. Lucky to be alone as he approached me, I willed my stomach to calm to give me an upper hand.

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered, chuckling under his breath.

“’The fuck you on about, Kaiba?” I asked.

“It’s this suit, isn’t it?” He looked cocky, like when he’d won the bronze battle.

“Not this one specifically,” I replied, matching his tone, “I’ll hand it to you, Seto Kaiba, you’re attractive in everything you wear.” I looped my finger between his tie and top button. “But there’s something about your suits that really…Turns. Me. On.” I bit my lip and he looked around the halls to make sure we were still alone, and I fought that feelin’ in my stomach that I’d made a mistake being so forward, but I had nothing left to lose. After all, I was masturbating to fully-clothed pictures of Seto Kaiba in magazines like a worthless piece of trash and if anybody found out my life would be over.

He’d kissed me first, I kept having to remind myself of that.

“If you’re so sure, we can finish this elsewhere,” he licked his lips and I knew that I had no out anymore. I had to go with him, the need was coursing through my veins and my heart was beating loudly in my ears.

“Take me,” I replied with double entendre.

He smirked and indicated that I follow him outside. I felt nervous as the cool autumn air hit my face. What if somebody saw us? But then I fixated on his sweet ass, swaying lightly with every step and remembered I wouldn’t just be hard to pictures of clothed Kaiba in an hour.

I was pulled into the back of a limo, privacy shades up. With just a two-word command, the car took off and Kaiba had me by the scruff of my neck. I thought I knew how hot he was, but when you know you’re in privacy and he’s dragged you here and you’re already horny, that’s a whole different ball game. His natural scents were stronger, and I found my hands pulling open buttons and my tongue down his throat while I was straddling his lap. He was hard, I swear I was harder.

The shit dreams are made of. Except he pushed me off him, face flush. I looked at him like he’d grown another head until he explained quickly. “We’ll be home soon.”

I fired my body straight out of that limo and I swear I’ve never done two flights of stairs so quickly. His door was pushed open and I pulled it closed again. No attention paid to his bedroom, except that it was clean and his bed was made. Was being the word. He wasn’t good at communication in bed, but he certainly made me moan as he teased me by taking my mouth hostage, brushing his hands over my erection as he pulled my buttons open. I could have almost sworn he was experienced. His lips were over my throbbing cock and I had tried to push him off before I came down his throat. My brain disassociated from my body, as if I was watching it happen from above. I just couldn’t bear for it to end so soon. And then my lips were around his cock and he was spilling down my throat with the softest grunts and truthfully, semen tastes disgusting but I never once considered wincing because I was just so thankful for the chance.

And then it was over and we both had our pants pooled on the floor beside his bed.

And all he could say was “tomorrow.”

And all I could do was agree because it was better than masturbating to a printed page of his waist hugging suit, or a memory that didn’t feel like mine. However, I promise you, I was going to do just that anyway.

 


	20. Chapter 20: Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Twenty - Dancing  
> Rated T for a little language

Kaiba doesn’t know how Mokuba convinced him to come and hang with the nerd herd, but here they were in an arcade, watching Mokuba challenge anybody within earshot to a fighting game. Tristan and Duke were having a dong-measuring contest over who could race the fastest in a generic racing game, customising decals with phalluses, confirming what Kaiba thought about the pair – bunch of immature idiots.

Yugi was watching over Mokuba’s shoulder, cheering him on with sweet liveliness that made Kaiba want to throw up – one day he’ll see things that will ruin his innocence and there’s a part of him that was, for lack of a better word, resentful that he hadn’t been pulled through that torture yet.

Tea was where tea always is; dancing on a DDR machine, hair pulled out of her face and in a tank top. Leaning on the bar on the second player mat was Joey, watching in awe at her flawlessly land perfect scores. She motioned for him to join, and he argued for a while before she grabbed him onto the mat and he threw his hoodie haphazardly on the floor.

Kaiba sighed, not knowing where to flout his attention; none of this looked enticing. Except, watching Joey was almost enchanting in a schadenfreude-esque way. He had no grace or style. Tripping over what Kaiba could only assume were basic steps. Like a new-born deer falling over its own legs.  

But after he got used to it, a smile crept on his lips and he jumped and landed more than a few combos, before watching Tea to see what her footwork was like and trying to mimic it, though not in time.

The arcade felt stuffy, and Seto already felt a bit of sweat behind his collar. Which was surely caused by a lack of air conditioning.

Nothing to do with the way Joey’s ill-fitting jeans sat loosely on his hips and the way his shirt lifted as he jumped in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't been updating this or Last Dance. I have LD open right now, and I have the plot and three completely written scenes but thre rest is like throwing myself at a brick wall.


	21. Cooking or Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Twenty-One. Cooking or Baking.  
> Rated T for language.

**_ Recipe: _ **

To make one Seto Kaiba you need the following:

  * Fifty-Five kilos of self-raising flour, because god knows his adoptive father didn’t do shit.
  * One cup of unbridled sarcasm.
  * A shipment of computer parts, because he’s a technophile and has something RAMmed up his ass.
  * About seventy litres of coffee (because he smells like coffee all the damn time).
  * A bottle of gin (because I’m sure he has his vices).
  * A tablespoon of taste, because he likes great cars but his fashion sense lets him down.



 

      For Icing:

  * A lemon’s tree worth of rinds for his sour expression
  * A pinch of cinnamon for unexpected spice.



 

      Preparation:

  * Mix ingredients thoroughly.
  * Let sit in the basement of a mansion for seventeen years.
  * Taunt with Duel Monsters.
  * Once he’s simmering with rage, wink at him and his blood will boil.
  * Roll out on bench once cool, the mixture will be a bit salty now.
  * Add icing. Maybe draw the odd smile in red icing sugar just because that’d wind him up.



 

“What the fuck is this?”

“Ahh, give that back!” I tried to snatch the scribbles back, but he held them above my arm’s reach.

“It’s got my name on it, therefore it concerns me.”

His eyes narrowed, and he frowned as he read my rubbish – why was I writing this rubbish in public.

Til he smirked. “You’re ten kilos off, but sure.” He placed the paper back on my desk, and slung his coat over his shoulders before leaving the Home Economics kitchen.

 

  * Leave for a while to rise. He’s beginning to come around.
  * He’ll be done in about a year. Have patience




	22. In Battle Side By Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Twenty-Two: In Battle Side By Side
> 
> Rated T+ for language

“I can’t believe I got matched with you in my own fucking tournament,” he cursed, crushing his empty coffee cup in his hand.

“Yeah, yeah, Rich Boy. So, do a re-roll if it’s that much of a problem.” Katsuya leaned back against the pillar beside the TV where the live announcement of randomised tag battles had just aired, lighting up a cigarette now that his friends had but dissipated.

“Don’t smoke inside you muppet,” Kaiba growled.

“Are you going to stop me?” Katsuya goaded, twirling the cigarette between his index and middle finger, winking at Kaiba’s frustration, displayed by his weighty throw of his trash into the bin, and weighted sigh of disdain.

Katsuya smirked between puffs on his cigarette. It was so comfortable nestling under the layers of Kaiba’s skin.

-

“So, moneybags. We gonna sort out our decks together or what?”

“You’re going to hand me your deck, and I’m going to make it fit with mine.”

“Fuck off, it’s my match too.” Katsuya sneered, quick to put up a defence. “You better let me have some input or I’m not duelling with you.”

“And leave the fate of my spot in the finals to a second-rate imbecile? You’re out of your mind.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” Katsuya shrugged, still throwing his deck on the coffee table, cards splaying in a fan. “So, how are we going to fuck them up?”

With a glimmer in his eyes, Seto popped a suitcase open between the pair, layered with shiny new cards in crisp sleeves. Monsters piled alphabetically within their levels; spell and trap cards by ability.

Katsuya’s fingers danced through the piles, marvelling at cards he’d only read about in forums, seen in next season’s magazines. Every type was truly covered, though Dragon Type was a heavy theme. Kaiba had a type, and it was majestic.

Under his pile of monsters, lay one card out of place, with eleven stars under the name. Instinctively, Katsuya pulled it out to put it near the top without looking at its name.

“Wait. What the fuck is this?”

“Pegasus thought it would be a good joke.”

“How did he even…?”

“He’s an insightful man who knows the intricacies of our complex and provoking relationship.”

Katsuya fumed. “I don’t know what you told him, but there’s no fucking way I’m using this card.”

“Hm.” Seto plucked the card out of his hands, and slid it into his own deck, after shuffling through the cards he pulled one out and placed it in the briefcase to the side. “You never know.”

-

With less than a thousand life points to victory for either party, two Blue-Eyes, Katsuya’s Red-Eyes, and a scapegoat on the field (that Kaiba had scoffed at when Katsuya had summoned), their opponents had managed to pull all punches, taking control of one of Seto’s Blue-Eyes and used a magic card to increase its attack. Threatening to end the game on their next turn, Seto was fuming, and even from a distance a vein was popping in his forehead.

Lady luck smiled, or rather, stirred the pot. A sly smile crept on Kaiba’s face at his next card draw.

“Kaiba, what do you think you’re doing?” Katsuya yelled, as Kaiba summoned Polymerisation on the field.

“Winning this duel, dumbass! I sacrifice my Blue-Eyes White Dragon, and the idiot’s Red-Eyes Black Dragon to summon the Violet-Eyes Grey Dragon.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Katsuya hissed, as the crowd drew to a blanketed silence.

-

“Congratulations on making it to the finals, Jounouchi-kun,” Pegasus placed himself neatly beside Katsuya, who was grazing from the snack bar.

“The fuck you think you’re playing at, making a card like that?”

“Oh that devilish little Kaiba-boy is blaming _me_ for that card? Quite amusing, really.” Pegasus swished his red-wine in his hands, before popping a salmon and cream cheese cracker in his mouth. “He so vocally hates your scapegoat card, yet he’s quick to use me as one.”

Katsuya stood in silence, half-finished strawberry tart in his hand.

“He had the card printed, hmm, about a year ago?” Pegasus tapped his temple with his index finger. “I must say I was perplexed at first, but it all makes sense. You’re quite the catch, really.” Pegasus grasped Jounouchi’s shoulder with an insightful smile, before patting him on the back and leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *inserts ProZD's "Shipping Characters" video here*


End file.
